Meet Me in the Middle

OK, let's see how this goes. I hope you enjoy it. Briana sees her hot neighbour, who's also her boss, sunbathing nude. She masturbates and imagines making love to the woman twenty years her senior. Briana reveals to the woman that she saw her naked in the garden, which leads to an invitation ...

Please, as usual, forgive any errors in the text. Send feedback!

GA -- Burford, Oxfordshire 29th July 2012.

Clandestine and furtive, yet excited and aroused, I watched from the upstairs window. My neighbour, ripe and voluptuous, already tanned by the summer sun stretched on the lounger, arms above her head, fingers locked as, with her bare breasts upthrust to towards the sun, she lay basking in the afternoon warmth.

Her name floated from my lips. "Marina," I sighed, a hand wedged into the waist of my jeans, while keeping the object of my as yet unvoiced desire in sight. My fingers flicked the jeans fastening open and I wriggled to slide them over my hips; and thus, with fingers parting labia already slick and oily with desire, I began to masturbate.

The woman moved, leaning to reach for a thin-stemmed glass from which she then sipped. Her breasts, heavy and full, swung and swayed as she moved. In my head I wondered at the texture of those big tits as if they were cupped in my palms and, while my forefinger tickled my clitoris and elicited a long groan of pleasure from my throat, I saw Marina hovering above me as I lay on my bed, her eyes on mine, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth when, after a long and tender kiss, she offered those breasts to my mouth.

Desperation itched between my legs while I continued to stare down on my unsuspecting neighbour. I needed something inside me, something firm and thick to stretch and fill me while I rubbed myself.

Cursing in frustration I tore my gaze away from her and, with my jeans bunched around my calves, stumbled to the bed. Lying on my front my fingers scrabbled inside the bedside drawer as I searched, frantically cursing at my thwarted attempts to find it -- Why do inanimate objects have the ability to frustrate us in a moment of dire need?

I cursed again when I felt that orgasm ebbing. "Fuck," I spat. I'd been so close. "Damn and bugger it."

Finally I found it, inevitably wedged at the back of the drawer, hibernating between layers of underwear. I pulled the dildo from within and, ignoring the confetti scattering of delicate underwear, managed to negotiate the steps to the window despite still being hobbled by the jeans.

Marina still reclined there occasionally sipping rose, causing my stomach to flip with excitement and lust to sipe from my sex.

Heat swelled my vulva and coloured my cheeks as I whispered, "Beautiful." I squeezed my breasts with one hand while, after laying the rubbery faux penis on the chair, I fingered my pussy again. "Kiss me," I breathed as, imagining Marina's hot body against mine, my tongue flicked in a fantasy kiss, dancing and sliding with Marina's, writhing over and over, our hands and mouths exploring. "Lick my cunt," I muttered, and face growing hot at the obscenity. "Oh, Marina, lick me and kiss me so I can taste myself on your tongue ..."

The surge began, the heat of it coming from somewhere deep and visceral, pooling at my core, threatening to burst and overwhelm me with wave after wave of pleasure. Sobbing, I grabbed the dildo and staggered to the bed. I fell upon the rumpled quilt, rolling onto my back and spreading my knees as wide as I could in the restriction of my clothing.

I fucked that spongy cock into my opening, my body accepting it hungrily, my pussy clenching and oiling while I sobbed for release and fingered the taut, pink nub of my clitoris.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, eyes closed, knees snapping together as, with the dildo wedged inside me I heaved onto my side and came. I heard the mewls and whimpers coming from me as I lay there, tense and shuddering, teeth gritted, my body jerking.

When, eventually, the hammering of my heart in my ribcage slackened and my breathing slowed, I turned onto my back, loose-limbed and sated. I lay there for a few seconds and contemplated how uncomfortable it was with my tee-shirt hem rolled up to my shoulder-blades. To ease the discomfort of my bunched clothing I sat up catching sight of myself in the mirror. In that reflection I saw a scarecrow-haired fright of dishevelled clothing, a dazed mannequin with eyes like an accident victim, wide and confused. A quarter length of dildo hung out of me like an obscene tongue, and I reached between my legs to ease the thing free. It slid out of me with a slurp, my labia clinging to the shaft as though reluctant to relinquish control.

I wobbled about the room on jelly legs as I slowly undressed. Next, leaving my clothes in an untidy heap, with the rubber cock lounging on the bedsheets in languid, post-coital torpor, I padded barefoot to the bathroom.

I drew a deep bath and then sat upon the porcelain toilet and held my labia splayed with my fingertips to piss a long stream into the bowl. Then I bathed, feeling the warm water sooth my inflamed pudendum. I day-dreamed about my neighbour, Marina, who at twenty years my senior, forty-two years old, was unmarried and also my boss. There were rumours that she was lesbian, a snippet that fired my imagination and caused me to grow slightly infatuated over her.

Catching her sunbathing had been such a shock. As I'd glanced out of the upstairs window and chanced to look across her garden I'd seen her there, in her garden without a stitch of clothing. Arousal came swift and savage in its intensity, triggering such a response that I decided, recklessly, that I had to let Marina know how I felt.

The problem was how to do it without compromising my career.

As it happened, circumstances overtook me when Marina passed me in the corridor at work the following day.

"Hello, Briana," she smiled. My body reacted as soon as I heard her voice. The scent of her made my pussy swell with warmth while my eyes moved to her lips and I thought about kissing them. "Lovely weather," she added.

My voice, when it came, sounded strange to my own ears. It was as if it were a stranger speaking. The words came from nowhere; I certainly didn't mean to reveal that I'd seen her naked in her garden, not intentionally. Despite my resolve that I'd reveal my deep feelings, when it came to it, us face-to-face, my nerve failed me. So it was a shock even to me to hear myself blurt, "Nice enough to sunbathe and drink wine," I said.

Marina didn't respond for a long time. She stared at me, her eyes clouding as the smile melted from her face like ice cream on a hot afternoon. Finally she cleared her throat, glanced around to see if we'd been observed, bid me a curt goodbye, and walked quickly away.

All the rest of the week, from Monday morning to Friday afternoon Marina avoided me -- or perhaps it was I who kept out of her way?

It was pure chance that we both stepped out of our neighbouring front doors early on Saturday.

"Lovely day again," Marina said, her face turned up to the blue sky above. A few cotton wool clouds drifted high and insignificant, lazy and no threat to the scorching summer afternoon that the morning promised.

The blush rose in my face, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I avoided my neighbour's eye when she turned her attention to me.

All I could do was offer a bland agreement. "Yes," I muttered. "It looks like it."

"I was wondering," Marina said as I hurried towards my car. "That if it does turn out nice, and I think it will, that it might be fun if you came over this afternoon. We could open a bottle of wine ...?"

It was all I could do to mumble a reply that it sounded like a good idea and then fall into my car. I had been keen to get into the supermarket before the usual weekend stampede, but now mind was awhirl.

Marina's suggestion sparked myriad scenarios that filled my thoughts but, somehow, I negotiated traffic, shopped and then drove home without incident, all the while wondering just why my neighbour had made the offer.

By the time I returned home I'd convinced myself Marina had no ulterior motive for issuing the invitation. I'd obsessed all week on the brief meeting in the corridor and the possible outcome of my comment, but now came to the conclusion that to Marina my remark had been momentarily puzzling, but which she'd subsequently dismissed and forgotten. Her offer to share a bottle of wine was just a friendly invitation passed from one neighbour to another. The woman had, I determined, thought nothing more that to bridge the gap between superior and subordinate, ignoring that fact that she was my boss, and focussing instead on being neighbourly.

That was what I convinced myself. The alternative was just too unnerving to contemplate.

"Hi, Briana," good to see you," Marina smiled. She stepped back and held the door wider. Inviting me into her home with an elegant sweep of an arm, she asked, "Wine?" Then, with her scent drifting on a wave of perfumed air, she closed the door and moved past me towards the kitchen. "Red, white, or pink?" Marina offered as, with her big eyes on me, she stood next to the large, double-doored refrigerator.

I opted for the pink and, after my host poured, followed her onto the patio. Marina settled the light cotton dress around her legs and, after indicating a similar chair with a light, aluminium frame and netting for a seat and back-rest, sat opposite me wearing huge sunglasses masking her expression.

"I suppose," Marina said after a delicate sip, "that you're wondering why, after six months of us being neighbours, that I asked you to come round?" I nodded, unnerved by the glasses hiding Marina's eyes. Not being able to read her face was unsettling.

I felt a tickle of anxiety in my tummy at the woman's words. Just what was she going to say? Why did she invite me? Was it work, her being neighbourly ... or where the rumours true, she did like girls and was about to make a play for me?

I squirmed against the netting beneath me, fearful and excited at the same time.

"I don't normally mix business and pleasure," Marina continued. "But ..." She paused and reached for her cigarettes and lighter that sat on the glass-topped garden table. "Smoke?" she offered, proffering the packet towards me.

"No, no thanks, I don't use them," I replied, shaking my head.

"Wise lady," Marina nodded.

Business and pleasure, the words screamed in my head. She's going to make a move on me, I thought. Arousal, fear, nervousness all clamoured within me. Oh, God ... What do I do? I'd mooned over marina for so many weeks, fantasised and masturbated over scenarios conjured up in my head, but now that the moment of truth was upon me -- any moment, I was certain, she was going to lay the hard word on me -- I balked.

"Anyway," my host said after blowing a thin stream of smoke towards the sky. "I was thinking ..."

Go on ... Please, go on. Tell me you fancy me. Tell me you know I was watching last Sunday, that you know what I did, that you know I fucked myself and imagined such dirty, nasty, sordid things...

"... that you might benefit from a course, residential, two weeks, and when you get back, if you're successful, there's the potential for promotion in it."

That was it. The reason she'd mentioned business and pleasure was, while we enjoyed a sip of rose in the garden in the sunshine we could discuss the pros of me attending a training course.

For the next hour, and almost a bottle further, we chatted about how things could be improved at work. Eventually, with another bottle sitting in a nest of ice in the bucket on the table, Marina pushed the sunglasses into her hair, took a deep drag on her current cigarette, and ground it into the ashtray.

Following a glance over her shoulder towards my house, Marina's eyes levelled on mine, her head tilting.

"Is that where you saw me from?" she asked. "Last Sunday, when I was out here ..." A laugh burst from her throat when Marina saw my surprise. "What? You think I didn't join the dots after we spoke on Monday?" She reached for her glass and sipped, her amused eyes regarding me as she drank. "You caught me by surprise at first." Marina shrugged and lit up another cigarette. "But when I got home and came out here and saw how that window ..." Marina gestured with the cigarette between her fingers. "... Overlooks the patio. Well, of course I surmised that you'd seen me." Marina shrugged again. "So what?" she said. "You saw me naked? It's no big deal. It's my garden and I can sunbathe in the nuddy if I want to."

"I ..." began, but my mouth just fell open and then snapped shut when I found I had no words to deliver at that moment.

Marina chuckled. "But I did start thinking about you after that, Briana. I wondered why you'd said what you did. I mean, if you'd seen me and looked away, perhaps embarrassed, you probably wouldn't have said anything. But, I have to say that following your comment, something came to mind. I've seen you sometimes, in the office, looking at me, in an odd way. I put it down to us being neighbours, me being the boss, and thought that you might be a little ... intimidated.

"But I suspect there's something more. So, tell me, Briana. Is there anything to it? Is there another reason why your eyes follow me around the office?

Her percipience rendered me incapable of either speech or coherent thought. My cheeks burned as I struggled for a way out of this situation. Marina's eyed bored into me, relentless, unblinking. My mouth opened and closed several times, but all I could do was gurgle some inarticulate babble and flap my hands.

"Don't worry," Briana," the woman continued after several seconds of my gape-mouthed gargling. "I certainly don't mind. But I'd like to know. Is there something on your mind? It'll help, you know, if you just get it off your chest. If there is anything ... you know ... bothering you."

"I watched you," I breathed, my eyes closed while my cheeks burned even hotter. I reached for my glass and drained the contents in one long draught. "From my bedroom. While you sunbathed. You're ..." I paused, unable to go on."

"What?" Marina murmured, her expression intent as she leaned forward to hear the revelation.

I saw her bosom move, watched her breasts roll under the dress and the desire overwhelmed me. I looked at her lips, so full and ripe for kissing. Wondering how her lips would taste, imagining her tongue -- wine and cigarettes -- on mine as we kissed, our hands on each other exploring new and exciting places, I sighed and closed my eyes.

"You know already," I said. "Stop teasing me ..." Marina's eyes shone as she smiled at. She winked. "You're so beautiful," I moaned. "I watched you, saw you naked and I ... I ... I just wanted to come down here and kiss you." I looked at her, my eyes imploring her not to laugh; I needed her to understand.

"Oh, Briana," the woman said with a sigh.

I took the exhalation for disappointment, I'd offended her in some way, misread her intent. Rising to my feet, I stammered, "I ... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ... I'd better go ..."

And then, before I knew it, Marina was there, her mouth pressed to my lips.

"You should have come to me," she murmured before her tongue slid into my mouth. Marina kissed me and pulled my body close to hers so our breasts met through our clothing. Her hands went around my waist, sliding down over my hips until her fingers moved to my buttocks. She squeezed those globes and pulled away from the kiss. "You should have come to me," Marina repeated. "We could have drunk wine and made love ..."

"I played with myself and thought of you," I admitted,' the words rushing out of me, spilling through the breech in the dam wall. "I fingered myself and used a dildo ... I was so hot ... so needy. All I could think of was you, how you'd taste, what you'd say and do and how you'd moan ..."

"You can find out. Now, right now. We can do it all, Briana. I want you to come to my bed and we can touch each other. We can kiss and lick and ..." She eyed me then in such a way, sly and feline, that my stomach lurched and a slide of longing soaked my underwear. "Never mind," Marina said, turning. She held my hand and led me through the patio doors into her kitchen. "I'll show you," she added. "Later, after I've made you come with my tongue and my fingers ..."

Marina undressed me in her bedroom. She slid the bootlace straps of the dress over my shoulders and, with the dress gathered at my hips, she eyed my braless breasts, her eyes gleaming.

"You're beautiful, Briana," she breathed, one hand stroking my blonde hair. "God knows what you see in an old woman like me, but you're absolutely gorgeous." Marina's fingertips traced light patterns over my breasts, her thumbs sliding over my nipples as her touched aroused the teats to long, thick points. "I've just got to kiss your boobs ..."

Marina stepped back and, with her eyes on mine, with a lop-sided smile on her face, she slowly peeled the dress from her body. She unclasped her bra and thrust her tits forward.

"Is that what you wanted to see, Briana?"

I whimpered, the urge to touch myself between my legs overwhelming me.

"You dirty girl," Marina smiled when my fingers went to my sex. "But let me do that for you. Take the dress off and get on the bed. Open your legs so I can see you. Oh," Marina gasped when I complied with her request and she could see all of me, wide open, hot and bubbling and vulnerable. "I'm going to taste your cunt, my lovely girl ..." Marina paused as, lying on her front, she looked over the soft plain of my stomach and the twin hillocks of my breasts. Her eyes found mine and she smiled. "I'm going to enjoy you," she grinned.

And then a groan burst out of me as I arched my back, my hips rising from the bed, and felt Marina's mouth on me for the first time.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped when her tongue squirmed into my opening.

"All in good time," the woman said before splaying my labia with her fingers, she licked my clitoris numb. "I'll fuck you in a few minutes."

When I came I writhed and thrashed while Marina kept up her relentless, stiff-fingered assault on my cunt. She finger-fucked me and licked my clitoris simultaneously, sending me into a wild paroxysm of thrashing limbs and venomous, spitting obscenities.

I came and came while, with her fingers still curled up inside me, Marina eased her tanned body along my paler form and she kissed my mouth.

"You want to get fucked now?" my lover asked from her kneeling position above me. "I love women, always have done," she informed me as she padded across the bedroom towards a large dressing table. "But sometimes I just can't come unless I've got something inside me. I've tried hard cock but there's usually a penis attached to it," she quipped, and it took me a few seconds to click to her meaning.

"Oh, that's funny," I panted, still breathless. Then my eyes widened as Marina turned and held a long double-ended dildo aloft.

"Meet me in the middle?" she grinned and almost ran back to the bed. Clambering aboard, giggling while I rode the billowing mattress as it swelled like a bouncy-castle following Marina's excited leap, the woman waggled the full eighteen inches of synthetic male organ in her fist. The thing hung, thick and threatening, the ridges and knobbles and gigantic twin cock-heads promising to split me open and touch me in intimate places so deep no fingers or tongue could ever hope to reach.